


Set Yourself Among the Stars

by dreaminginside



Category: Super Junior
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Fantasy, Fluff, Introspection, Long word babble, M/M, of sorts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-12
Updated: 2013-07-12
Packaged: 2017-12-19 05:24:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/879934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreaminginside/pseuds/dreaminginside
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is a fish floating inquisitively over your shoes, one round eye seeming to meet yours through the clear water.</p>
<p>This reminds you of the water currently lapping at your shins, and you realize what a predicament you have gotten yourself into.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Set Yourself Among the Stars

**Author's Note:**

> For sj-reel.livejournal.com, my prompt was Spirited Away.

There is a fish floating inquisitively over your shoes, one round eye seeming to meet yours through the clear water.

This reminds you of the water currently lapping at your shins, and you realize what a predicament you have gotten yourself into.

The bathhouse looms imposingly behind you, and your shoulders slump at the events of the previous night. The house seems so much less threatening now under the light of day, lanterns swinging unlit and quiet bells from the chimes the only sounds to color the air. Your small marine friend zips off as you lift one soaked foot and begin navigating your way to the small floating train stop, making an effort to sort through the knot of memories simmering in your mind.

_“I want to see him.”_

You know that voice will haunt your dreams, so familiar that you feel you could reach out and touch it. You wish you could have seen the one who the voice emerged from, but you were wary to look past the curtain, certain you’d be in enough trouble already for eavesdropping. And you would get in trouble, even if you had taken the greatest care to remain unseen, the master always knows.

_“You know the rules, favored spirit of heaven or not, you are not allowed to interfere. If he finds you, then he finds you on his own.”_

Much like how you don’t know why you were so compelled to listen this conversation, you don’t know how you know they are speaking about you. The memories lay buried under your given persona, a thick film of the unknown hanging over your mind. You pull yourself onto the train stop and sit on the small bench there, taking off your soaked shoes and letting them dry as you tilt your head back to watch the clouds.

_“Don’t give me your riddles, Heechul. You know as well as I do that you only follow the rules when it is convenient to you. Now let me see Henry --”_

The memory cuts off in your mind as the last syllable of a name leaves the unknown spirit’s lips, and you were suddenly moving backwards, an invisible hand pushing on your chest until you were back against the wall of the elevator that takes you to the highest floor of the bathhouse.

“Henry,” You whisper to yourself, trying the name on for a moment and feeling your heart give a little tug. Something tells you that you are Henry, that the name and self you signed away who knows how long ago is the one that that spirit was looking for. You reach in your pocket and grasp a small single ticket, pull it out and sigh a breath that feels like a rush of memory.

...

_“Just can’t keep your nose in your own little corner, can you?” Heechul sighs and looks at you, flicking a hand to release you from your position on the wall. “I had so much hope for you too, Xianhua.”_

_You shrug your shoulders, rather sure that Heechul expects nothing back from you. Snooping had not been the original intention for your trip up to Heechul’s office, rather a problem with the bath tokens, but a note of curiosity let you stay._

_“Who was he?” You ask, surprising yourself and him. You’ve been quiet in your time at the bathhouse, preferring to sit and sort through the mass of emptiness that resides in your memory. “That was my name that he knew, wasn’t it?”_

_“He’ll never leave me alone now that he knows you’re here,” Heechul sighs, ignoring your questions entirely and gesturing with his hand for you to follow him, leading you through the various hallways of the top level of the bathhouse he heads. Your mind wanders as your feet move automatically, and you wonder what happened to the spirit Heechul was speaking to. “So I am going to let you go.”_

_“Pardon?” Your eyebrows raise as you suddenly come to the end of the hallway, Heechul flinging the doors open and leading you out to a balcony overlooking the vast expanse of water beneath the bathhouse. Heechul snaps his fingers and your contract appears before your eyes, a very neat_ Xianhua _signed at the bottom. A snap of Heechul’s fingers and the contract dissipates into the air, a small ticket in its place._

_“If he is so determined to meddle with your second chance, then maybe I should be entitled to some meddling of my own. Go find yourself,” Heechul says flippantly, examining one of the large rings on his fingers as the ticket floats to your waiting hands. “It will be up to you if you can find your way back or not, though. Choose your stop wisely.”_

_“Thank you,” You murmur as you examine the ticket, revealing it to be a single train ticket, for the one that runs beneath the bathhouse. There is one passing beneath the bridge now, wind from it ruffling your hair. The significance of the destruction of your contract is not lost on you, and you wonder when Xianhua will begin to slip away._

_“Don’t thank me, that makes me seem soft,” Heechul scoffs, grabbing your shirt by the collar and pulling you to the railing of the balcony. He picks you up surprisingly easily and your eyes widen as you catch his wicked grin for a fraction of a second before you’re launched over the edge. “Now go make me proud.”_

_The wind seems to recognize you and slows your descent, wrapping around you until your feet are landed on the train tracks. You are alone and crouching in ankle deep water, and you can’t help but feel like this is a new beginning._  
...

Your arm is over your eyes when you come to, and you realize that you’d fallen asleep. This is not how an adventure is supposed to begin, you think, and you look thoughtfully to the ticket still clenched in your hand.

The sky is blurry to your still bleary eyes as you stare upwards, pondering the thought of the point of all of this. Your memory is curiously blank past some months ago, and you think that that shouldn’t be right. You should know your name, your past, your parents, if you truly are as human as they all say you were before you came here.

“Henry,” You say to yourself quietly, and smile again as it fits in the puzzle of your mind. This is a good start for Henry, for you, you think. You’re about to forget all about the ticket in your fingers when a small hand rests itself on your shoulder, startling you out of your momentary reverie.

“Pardon me young man,” The voice that accompanies the hand enters your ears, and you see a man materialize next to you, easy smile resting on his lips as you blink at him. He removes his hand from your shoulder, and you wonder why the touch rings of familiarity. “Do you know when the next train is due?”

“No,” You answer, frowning slightly as your voice cracks from the disuse. The train dilemma resettles in your mind, and you look down to the seemingly endless sea for the familiar lights that you often watch pass under the bath house. “Do you?”

The man shakes his head, long bangs brushing his high cheekbones as he takes a seat beside you. You feel the answer was to be expected, so you simply shrug and look back at your ticket, thinking of Heechul’s words. In truth, you’ve never been on a train in this life, and you couldn’t have a fainter idea of which stop it is you should choose. You might be on this train forever, provided it comes, racked with the indecision that fate has thrust onto you.

“You don’t remember me, do you, Henry?” The man’s voices reaches you again, and you turn in surprise at hearing that elusive name of yours on someone else’s lips. Try as you might you cannot put a name to this face, a man with a small frame and a soft voice all that you see. “It’s a pity.”

“Do you know me?” You ask, feeling more attuned to your voice now, sticking your chin up as you try for a strong tone of voice. All adventurers are meant to be confident in their quest, after all. You stumble as you add on an after thought, wondering for a moment if you cold have simply forgotten this stranger from this life. “Which me?”

“The you before Xianhua,” The stranger’s smile is unmoving, eyes staying focused on yours as the breeze ruffles your hair. Your heart rises in its beating as you think that this person could have known you, then maybe he knows the other man as well. “Well, that’s not entirely true. But I could have known you with all that _he_ talked about you.”

“Who?” You feel a slightly desperate tone enter your voice as you think of the man from the bathhouse, that voice that paints a face that slips just out of grasp in your mind, a name that dies right before it leaves your tongue. “What do you know about him and I?”

Your companion’s smile holds steadfast and a small tick of annoyance rises in your chest. Another line of questions is ready to burst from your chest when the other man, or spirit as you’re beginning to suspect, points off into the distance.

“You can call me Ryeowook, spirit of the air at your service,” The stranger says softly, reaching out to close your hand tighter around your ticket. The touch is gentle, and it reminds you of a time that seems so long ago, of sun on your cheeks and a breeze twisting through your hair. The feeling, the memory, lasts no more than half a second, but your heart aches when the touch leaves. “And I believe that that is our train. Perhaps you shall find your answers if you come with me?”

As if cued, the train grinds to a halting stop in front of the two of you, and you are left with little choice but to follow Ryeowook on, depositing your single ticket into the waiting depths of the grinder.

Somehow, you feel even more lost than before.

...

The train is silence.

There are few on besides you and Ryeowook, most of them remaining in the shadows, few features distinguishing them from each other even when you squint your hardest. You edge closer to Ryeowook on the hopes of catching another strand of memory, but there is no feeling to grab onto this time. Ryeowook catches on rather quickly to your goal, and lets his eyes crinkle, a small laugh escaping.

“I can see the gears turning in your head,” He muses aloud, and your lips twitch into a frown, which only seems to amuse Ryeowook even more. “It’s been so long since I met someone so full of questions, though I suppose I should expect nothing less from the one _he_ gave up everything for.”

Your right eye twitches at another mention of this man that your whole being seems so integral to, and you wish someone would spare you the theatrics of this adventure and spit it out already. This mood settles in your stomach, and you have to wonder when the last time you felt this many emotions was.

“But I can’t really help you, Henry,” Your shoulders sink, even in you weren’t sure what you expected. It would be simply too easy if all the answers were laid in front of you on a platter. “It simply wouldn’t be right, you’ll have to remember on your own. But you can travel with me, I’m looking for a certain forgetful spirit. Perhaps we shall find yours along the way?”

“Perhaps,” You sigh, turning your head to rest your cheek against the window, watching the water pass by. The train stops on whims, creaking into each floating station, you and Ryeowook staying unmoving even as those faceless passengers come and go, leaving you to the silence of your thoughts.

Your eyes close and brows furrow in concentration as you try to draw in on yourself. If Ryeowook insists on being vague then it is clear you have only yourself for this quest. Luckily, it would seem there are two of you.

In your consciousness there seems to be a line drawn between the memories of Xianhua and those of Henry, a new wall having drawn itself with this retaking of your old identity. The memories seems not lost, per say, simply stuck behind a wall in your heart. You pound against the wall of your previous self until your head aches, but it does no use, the wall seeming to only stare back. 

You sit down in the confines of yourself and take a breath, trying yet again to hold onto that feeling. You let yourself remember that warmth, and suddenly there is sand beneath you, and you somehow know that it’s summer, a small wave lapping at the hem of your pants.

A laugh echoes in your ear, and it is achingly familiar. The you of your memories feels a rush of happiness and you feel your eyes begin to open as a hand closes around yours, a turn of your past self’s head away from an answer sure to birth a fresh wave of confusion.

Your eyes snap open in real life instead of you memories, though, and you blearily recognize Ryeowook pulling you up, suddenly moving rapidly towards the exit of the train.

“Time to get off, Henry,” Ryeowook cocks his head apologetically, and you can’t quite find it in you to be angry. Warm feelings still linger within you, and you feel a tad closer to what you are searching for. “Watch yourself, by the way. We’re in for a bit of rain I think.”

The train doors shut behind the two of you, and it’s then that you notice the ground beneath your feet, no wayward fish circling your calves. Ahead of you is only a thick gathering of trees, a covering of heavy gray clouds above your head.

“How far did we go?” You ask, nose scrunching as you enter the forest through a thin but well trodden path, a raindrop plunking on your forehead. Your vision blurs as you remember _water, so much water, clear in front of your open eyes as it swallows you up, steals your breath and --_

_Take my hand_

That persistent voice resonates through your memories and for the briefest of seconds the eyes of your memory catch another’s, pure black at their core and filled with determination.

“As far as it would take for you to remember.”

Another raindrop hits your cheek, and the illusion is broken.

Ryeowook is several steps ahead of you, arms crossed across his chest as he waits patiently. There’s an umbrella in his hand that you distinctly don’t remember being on his person before, but you simply shrug and make your way to meet him, ducking under the cover the umbrella offers from the increasing rain.

When you blink, you can still see those eyes. They sit heavy on your heart, and you feel as if you’ve seen a higher range of emotion in them before, lit up by the stars even.

Your soul aches.

The rain increases as the two of you make your way down the spindly path, Ryeowook’s umbrella doing little to save you from a thorough soaking. The spirit apologizes as he remains curiously dry, eyes crinkling as you eye him unamusedly.

“Air attributes have their uses,” He says simply, turning his head back to the front and squinting, seeming to look for something. “It isn’t usually this bad either, clearly the one we’re looking for is in another on of his black moods. Best to let me do the talking, Henry.”

You simply send Ryeowook a withering look. It wasn’t as if you’d done much speaking until now, and you hadn’t really planned on voicing many more thoughts. Your head swims with enough voices that you can’t place as is, you think it would be best to not add your own to the blend just yet.

A crack of lightening illuminates the area around you, and you see a small house in the distance, in an even smaller area that seems to be devoid of rain. You quicken your pace on the hopes that Ryeowook will follow suit, this seeming to be your destination. The house itself isn’t of much consequence to you, but you’d give nearly anything to get rid of this chill in your bones. Though you aren’t sure if this chill comes from the rain in particular, or the ocean that swallows you in your memories.

There’s no hand reaching for you this time.

...

Ryeowook opens the door without knocking, and sweeps his arm in a gesture for you to go first, ever present genial smile beginning to unnerve you a bit. The house is set up quaintly, and Ryeowook ushers you to a small table in the center of the room, tapping his foot as he looks around.

There’s a small bucket on the center of the table under where a leak seems to be, and you watch the continuing droplets slowly cause ripples in the existing volume, finding that it soothes your overworked mind slightly.

“He seems to be out right now,” Ryeowook sighs, interrupting your reverie and sitting across from you once he realizes that whoever it is that you are seeking isn’t going to magically appear. “It looks like it’s just the two of us for the time being.”

“Time for me to ask questions that you aren’t going to answer, then?” You ask, cocking an eyebrow at the spirit. Ryeowook chuckles lightly and you sigh, feeling a bit petulant. “Memories or not, I’m not exactly stupid.”

“I never said you were,” Ryeowook shrugs his shoulders and rests his hands on the table, folding them delicately in a move that seems entirely characteristic of him. “You are actually the most extraordinary being I’ve ever met if the stories are to be believed. Ask away, perhaps you will stumble upon an answer without my saying anything.”

“What stories? The one the man who saved me told you?” You hope to see an flicker of surprise cross Ryeowook’s face, but he simply nods. You are beginning to think that this particular spirit is unflappable. “Whom of course, you can’t tell me anything about, because that would be breaking the spirit of this fantastic adventure I’ve been thrown on to find myself.”

“He cannot tell you because it is part of the deal that was made to keep even a piece of you alive,” A voice calls from the door and your head turns wearily, not quite sure you want to meet any more new guests. Smoke fills the doorway as a being materializes there, surprisingly dry despite the downpour that seems to only have grown since you arrived. “Why have you brought him here, Ryeowook?”

“Why else?” Ryeowook chuckles and you blanche, for you see nothing funny about this situation. The one who appears to be the owner of this house is no doubt a spirit connected to the darker elements, smoke continuing to trail from his feet as he removes his heavy outer coat, rotating his glare between you and Ryeowook. “I’m only trying to help, Jongwoon. It’s only right you help _him_ out this time. You did deny him last time when he looked so pitiful, after all.”

“That’s because you shouldn’t go messing with the affairs of mortals,” Jongwoon (you assume him to be Jongwoon at least) sighs, his eyes settling on you. You sit up straighter out of habit, used to scrutiny after your time working in the bathhouse. “I don’t make the rules, I just set the marks. He _knows_ that.”

“Still --”

“Will the two of you stop talking like I’m not here?” You speak up, beginning to tire of having no idea what’s happening. In retrospect, you’ve been lost ever since you woke up here, but you’re lack of any kind of perspective had never troubled you until recently. “Who are you even? Or am I supposed to figure this out on my own too, like that mysterious man you all reference?”

“Good to know you’re still feisty,” Jongwoon cracks a slight smile and walks to sit down, ruffling a hand through your hair as he passes. Smoke unfurls from his sleeve and tickles your nose, your face scrunching up in protest. “My name is Jongwoon, and I signed your death warrant, Henry.”

You blink at that, having not expected such a straightforward, if still confusing answer. 

“Pardon?” You sputter as Ryeowook rests a hand on his forehead, ever present smile flickering downward in irritation. Jongwoon only seems to enjoy this, a hint of amusement flashing in his dark eyes.

“Jongwoon, you know we aren’t allowed to break any deals, he must --” Ryeowook begins, but Jongwoon cuts him off before he can continue, waving a hand flippantly and looking back to Henry.

“I think I am entitled to some bending and breaking of my own deals, and if the kid wants some help, then why not give it to him?” Jongwoon’s eyes sparkle, and suddenly you feel a bit wary. Ryeowook simply sighs, burying his head in his hands and muttering about having nothing to do with this. “Putting things simply, I am one of those with the job of finding those marked for death, Henry.”

“Now, thinking of this carefully, and thinking of your entire existence here, can you draw any conclusions?” Jongwoon raises an eyebrow at you, and you can’t meet his gaze. Your heart quickens in your chest and you feel on the verge of something quite large, imaginary fists back to pounding on the wall of your memory. “Shall I ruin the whole journey for you? Would you like his name? The one you promised me you wouldn’t forget?”

Jongwoon is still talking when you close yourself up in your heart, eyes unfocused and you feel yourself on the verge of something extremely important. Your eyes focus back in on the bucket, and you watch the ripples of the water. 

“It would be a shame if I had to tell you, wouldn’t it?”

_“What are you doing here by yourself?_

“Stop teasing him, Jongwoon.”

_“I don’t know, I don’t think anyone should be on their own on such a beautiful night.”_

“I’m not teasing, I’m only trying to help.”

“You’re never helpful, Jongwoon, you know that as well as I do.”

_“Would you like to count the stars with me?”_

“Why must you wound me so, my dear?”

_“Of course, my name is --”_

“Sungmin.”

It’s a name that slips from your lips without thought, a mere puff of air that though barely audible above the arguing of the two spirits, could be a supernova inside of you. All eyes snap to you but you have eyes only for the bucket, having filled itself to nearly the brim with water during what has felt so short a time in Jongwoon’s home.

“I don’t need your help, I know his name. I know Sungmin,” You say with more confidence than you feel, because you are sure that you do. You know that this is the name that belongs with that voice, that belongs to the eyes in your memories, to the hand that you know has been reaching for yours this entire time. “He’s been looking for me, I need to go find him.”

“The choice is yours to make,” Jongwoon shrugs, but he smiles slightly, and you guess this is his way of showing approval. “If you find him, then your memories will return in full, should you choose it. But are you sure you wish to give up this second chance at a clean slate?”

“Positive,” You nod your head vigorously, only have focused on the conversation as your heart begins to tug your legs towards the door. You know this is no longer where you need to be, but before spiriting out the door without a backward glance, you turn to Ryeowook and give a deep bow. “Thank you for your help.”

You see Jongwoon huff out of the corner of your eyes but ignore him, grin only growing when Ryeowook waves you off, telling you to simply _follow your heart_.

You’re gone after that, door closing behind you rather solidly. You feel a part of your journey close, and begin the final leg, walking into the curtain of rain.

...

“No thanks for me, then? I’d like to think I was far more helpful than you, and yet there he goes out the door. Still such a child.”

“Hush, don’t you remember being young and in love?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been young, but I do believe I never stopped being in love.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere.”

...

Your shoulders shake as the rain soaks you to your bones, but you keep walking through the dark domain, sure you’ll get to where your heart tugs you sooner or later. There’s flashes of memory in you eyes as you blink, and you feel fragments coming back to you.

There’s a beach.

You can see it in your mind’s eye, a Henry of another time sitting petulantly in the hot sand as he is displeased to be away from his friends on what is sure to be his last vacation before adulthood comes crashing through the door. This you spends most of his time away from your parents, preferring to watch the waves lap against the sand, reaching high enough to tickle his toes even.

You feel the water soak your legs, and he and you begin to become one.

The moon shines through your current trees, and you wonder how much time has passed since you left the bathhouse. The light shines even through the torrent of rain, and you find yourself lost in memory again.

It begins when you’re sitting on the beach again late one night, eyes drawn to the foam that seems to reflect liquid starlight instead of water. 

It’s that moment that you meet Sungmin.

There’s a sudden presence beside you, a boy around your age who questions as to why you’re on your own, his eyes as bright as stars and a mischievous smile gracing his lips. You can’t help but let your lips turn up as well.

Together you count stars.

You see flashes of days that slowly brighten for you, sun on your cheeks as you learn to really see, anticipating every night when you can sit on the beach and wait for a touch on your arm, a quick smile and quicker wit.

It’s a friendship built upon stars and sea and simple conversations that are really as deep as the depths of the water that affectionately cradles your calves.

“Do you ever wonder about life?” You ask quietly one night, eyes drooping as you stare up into the sky, head sat comfortably on Sungmin’s lap. He looks down at you with amusement, flicking you in the forehead. 

“Asking the deep questions tonight, Henry?” Current you shivers inside at the sound of your name from his lips, and the memories begin to click by faster, a film coming off the reels behind your eyes. “Life is what you make of it.”

You see silhouettes that meet under the skyline and feel warm summer nights on your lips, taste shooting stars and yet all you can see is Sungmin.

You see so many nights under the stars, your own endless summer.

Suddenly it cracks.

You fall to your knees in your current reality and clutch at your throat, breath stolen by water that you know isn’t around you but you can _feel_ filling your lungs. Your fingers bury themselves in the mud as you try to keep grounded.

There was a storm, natures own way of washing away all and renewing what it can. It simply catches you as well, well on its way to wiping you off the face of reality as well. _As it should have_ , you think, remembering Jongwoon’s words in your swimming consciousness. Which leads you to remember.

The hand.

Sungmin’s hand, grasping yours tightly and pulling you from the water, your breath coming in gasps through your heaving chest. It’s the first time you’ve seen Sungmin during the day, and he suddenly seems so iridescent in the light through the terrible darkness. You wonder if your eyes are playing tricks on you, but he smiles weakly at you, the two of you barely staying afloat. It’s there that the water begins to seep into your memory, blurring the inky words that you read in your minds eye and rendering it incomprehensible.

You feel your life fading out of you, cradled broken in Sungmin’s arms and see who you now know to be Jongwoon looking at him in pity.

_“You know the rules, Sungmin. Death does not judge by which spirit favors the being”_.

You always had thought Sungmin was a bit different. Untouchable, no matter how much you may have touched.

There is a blur in the pages of memory, and you feel yourself choke out a reluctant agreement to a deal. One without Sungmin, without beaches or stars. A new start in a world of spirits, a second chance of the life that would have been robbed of you otherwise. You scratch your name out on a contract at Sungmin’s insistence, and you can already feel you memories fading.

It hurts even more to remember than when you’d felt it the first time.

_“I’ll find you, I promise. If you want me to.”_ There’s a hint of hesitation in Sungmin’s voice, and you could almost grin as you can see your body begin to turn transparent, fading from the view of those who know it.

_“Of course,”_ You say softly, reaching up to wipe away a wayward star from Sungmin’s cheek, and you keep it clutched in your hand, trying to remember your last count. _“I won’t really forget. You’ll just have to help me remember.”_

“Henry.”

Your eyes snap open and suddenly air fills your lungs as your name rings through you. You realize you’ve fallen completely on your side in the mud, choking the weakness out of your lungs as you force your eyes to find the source of the voice that you know you heard. 

“Sungmin?” You wheeze, and you could nearly cry in relief when you see that the voice is attached to a real being, Sungmin looking exactly as you remember him, almost floating next to you. “You found me.”

You can still see the stars in his eyes.

“I’ve always been here,” He says softly, helping you up. Your hand shakes from where it’s clutched in his, and the air begins to return to your lungs. His other hand lays on your chest, and your heat shivers beneath your ribs. “You just had to remember that I was.”

“You saved me,” You whisper, the pieces of your memory fitting together to form a completed puzzle, and you marvel at how it feels to be able to look with your mind’s eye and finally see beyond the haze. You lean forward and rest your head against Sungmin’s, and suddenly you find your scenery blurring, your feet sinking into the sand of the beach you met on so long ago. “You gave me another life.”

“But would you like your old one back?” Sungmin looks at you with guilt in his eyes, and you can see the waves of time bending for you in accommodation, the scenery of the beach changing to nightfall, familiar stars winking at you from above. “I could do it, the stars would allow it. If it would make you happy.”

You think on your past life, the one you now remember, but you find nothing remarkable in it. Nothing about the Henry before Xianhua, before the Henry that you now are, pulls you to stay. You think of your little adventure instead, and you find that much more worth hanging onto, unconsciously gripping Sungmin’s hand tighter in your own.

“You make me happy,” You say simply, and the illusion shatters around you. You’re again standing under the dreary skies of the stop that Ryeowook had lead you off at, but this time you’re holding onto a grinning spirit. One that pulls you with him, through the clouds and into the sky, past even the stars as you swear you bend time and space alike. “That is my answer.”

You close your eyes and feel the warmth of a thousand supernovas rise in your chest, and you bring your lips to his as you cross the sea, the last piece of your adventure snapping into place.

Your new life begins.

...

Heechul watches two stars soar through the sky from his window, and sighs as he rummages through his desk, ring clad fingers finally settling on a worn piece of paper. It disappears for good with a snap of his fingers, and he smiles slightly to himself.

“I do love a good happy ending.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! :) Thank you for reading, all manner of comments are appreciated!


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